Words of Innocence and Experience

I dreamed about G again last night.

After a conversation with an honest him the other day, I have decided to given up on him for good. How many times have I told myself so, anyway? Yet my resolution always falter at unknown powers…

I am still not sure about my feelings for G. His ignorance and rudeness never fail to irritate me. However, I am tempted by his innocence in a way. How good it would be to live in ignorance, not knowing the cruelty of the world.

My dream was very long. It began with a field trip of the school. How can there be field trips for college students? Well, dreams always have odd time sequences.

Our destination was a cottage by some stream. The cottage was rather spacious though, accommodating hundreds of students. A lecture was held inside the cottage. The lecturere was invited by my professor, Guy. Although I was reluctant to attend the lecture, my professor pushed me inside the house.

I do not remember the content of the leture, nor does it matter. I remember sitting inside the house while looking out of the window at the boys, who were playing in the balcony or jumping into the water from the height of second floor; some were swimming.

After the lecture, I went home. Again, dreams make no sense. My home is quite far away from my university. I cannot just go home after school. Anyway, I went home, and then for some reason I learned that G was hurt and was hospitalized. As soon as hearing about the news, I got onto my bicycle to rush to the hospital. Before I left home, Grandpa (he passed away more than 10 years ago, ah dreams…) handed me a little something and said that the patient could massage himself with the little toy. I took it and started my short trip.

I remember riding on my bike at an unbelievable speed. I was fraught with worries. When I arrived at the hospital, I saw G’s parents and other relatives there. At first I tried to avoid them, yet it was impossible. So I made my appearance from behind the walls and saluted his parents. They were nice people. I told them I was there to see G.

“Oh, he has so many friends,” they laughed heartily. “Some people just visited him a while ago.”

I presumed that the people who came earlier must have been from his club. I found the number of the room he stayed in, knocked on it and entered it. There was a girl inside who seemed to be his cousin. G was asleep, so I talked to his cousin.

“So many people have come,” I said.

“Well, yeah,” laughed the girl, “it’s like traveling to some place, haha.” What an odd answer!

And then G woke up, and his cousin walked out of the room, leaving G and me alone.

“Hey,” I said, “are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he smiled, “Should be out of the hospital tomorrow.”

“Oh,” I said, taking the tool my grandpa gave me out of my pocket. “Here, this is for you. You can use this to massage yourself and should feel better.”

He seemed moved at my action. When I handed him the tool, he took my hand tightly, not letting me go. I would have been shocked or embarrassed had this happened in real life, but I wasn’t in my dream. He took my hand under his cheek on the pillow. He was so warm. I guess he was running a fever.

After he fell asleep again, I walked out of the room. I said goodbye to his parents and relatives and went home. Then, the dream was over.

What a horrible dream! I don’t want to care for G anymore. Somehow he keeps showing up in my dreams. Oh, Morpheus, please have mercy. If you make him appear so often, how do I forget about him?